Chapter 10: Chapter nine

Present day

 

Liz got home late, as had been her habit lately. Lukas was still missing and, while she had begun to worry for him on a personal level, practically it was just making a lot more work for her to do. They had spent the day trying to redesign her cerebellum implant for the umpteenth time and Liz felt like she had used a week’s worth of mental energy. She wanted nothing more than a meal, a glass of wine, and some bad TV.

She had a few friends who swore by using mindfulness exercises or meditation to relax at the end of a long day, and one who claimed that the best way to relax the mind was to exercise the body, but these things had always struck Liz like following hard work with more work. No, for her money, the best way to wind down was good food, bad television, and wine that fell somewhere in between.

She poured herself a glass and relaxed onto her couch, turning on her television and starting an episode of the latest ridiculous reality show her streaming service had recommended. Her apartment wasn’t very large, it included only a living room with a kitchenette that didn’t get all that much use, and a single bedroom with attached bathroom. But it was warm, cosy, and centrally located, which was more important.

 Her cat, Blaise, trotted over, looking for attention. She stroked him absently, watching people talk about how their hopes and dreams could finally be satisfied by singing or making dresses or something. She wasn’t really paying that much attention. Design ideas for neural interface systems were still dancing just behind her eyes, but she was sure with sufficient mindless television and wine, she could quiet her mind enough to relax.

Her stomach won the war for her attention it had been silently fighting with her cat, and she went to see whether she had anything to eat. Finding very little in her fridge—which was hardly a surprise as she hadn’t found the time to go grocery shopping in goodness knows how long—Liz decided to order Thai food. She had the number saved in her phone and the woman from Suit and Thai recognized her by her voice and asked if she wanted a number forty-two.

Getting predictable, she thought. But she did want a number forty-two, so she politely agreed and went back to her show.

After a time, there was a knock on the door, and Liz got up to get her wallet. As she did, she realized that something was off about the knock. It didn’t sound like the delivery boy from Suit and Thai’s knock.

As though I know him by his knock, she thought, realizing she was being silly. But, aware that it’s better to be silly than sorry, she took the knife from her purse while she was getting her wallet and held it behind her as she opened the door.

She had been right to be worried. At the door was not a young man delivering her dinner, but instead a large man with a shaved head and body-armour. He came at her the moment she opened the door.

Liz didn’t have any experience with being attacked in her home, but she had seen enough statistics on violent crime against women to know that talking her way out of this situation wasn’t an option. She brought her knife around immediately and slashed at the man’s face. She surprised him, and she cut him just below the eye before he knocked the knife away. Liz had a moment to react and she practically threw herself backwards, going for her bedroom and its lockable door.

She didn’t get far. The man grabbed her from behind and his arm snaked around her throat, locking into place and then applying pressure to her carotid arteries.

Liz bucked like a wild horse, desperate to get the man off of her, but he was too strong. She tried to scream, to tell someone, anyone, that she was in trouble, but her vision was going black and she didn’t have the strength for it.

She passed out.

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